


Little By Little

by NewbsNeebs



Category: Mobile Legends: Bang Bang (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Dragon Tamers AU, Eventual Romance, Getting to Know Each Other, Healing, Multi, No Incest, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27511627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewbsNeebs/pseuds/NewbsNeebs
Summary: When delegations from Cadia Riverlands arrived in Azrya Woodlands, the Moon Elf King wondered about the unfolding future. A story of day-to-day life that changed when a sliver of the East knocked on the secluded door of the Moon Elves.
Relationships: Estes & Miya, Estes & Yu Zhong, Estes & Zilong
Comments: 9
Kudos: 10





	1. A Healer, A King

**Author's Note:**

> Slight AU in which Dragon Tamers exist but under different circumstances than canon and Yu Zhong didn't manage to escape with Luo Yi after absorbing the Reverse Scales (and also slightly less of a jerk). Very loosely inspired by personal experience playing as Estes.

The Oriental delegation from Cadia Riverlands was an impressive collection of individuals, and most extraordinary – and imposing – of them all was the Ambassador Yu Zhong himself. 

It was no secret that Yu Zhong was once the protégé of the Great Dragon of Dragon’s Altar. However, the king of the Moon Elves wondered if the others could see the shadows of dark, curling horns above the ambassador’s head, or the pinpricks of violet in his eyes, or the illusions of scales in the gap in his uniform. Perhaps there were grains of truth to his claims as the reincarnation of the Black Dragon; perhaps it was mere tricks for the eyes, owing to the corruptive Reverse Scales which he had absorbed. 

The other representatives, though still unique in their own ways, were _human_ in the way that Estes was familiar with. There was General Zilong Yunzhao, the renowned warrior and heir apparent to the Great Dragon; Baxia of the Land of the Mystic Tortoise; the esteemed Geomancer Luo Yi; Ling, more infamously known as the assassin Cyan Finch; and bright-eyed Wanwan, daughter of the fabled Tangmen. 

His younger self had fantasized going abroad for the sights and sounds the East would offer him; it didn’t cross his mind that he would do so at the summoning of the Guardian Dragons. More than that, never had he imagined that it would come to his doorsteps in the form of these foreign faces, thousands of years after the fact. 

Beside him, Miya the Priestess of the Moon stood with her Moonlit Longbow slung at the ready across her back, her composure admirable. Yet as her brother, Estes could not fail to notice the subtleties of her uneasiness in her rigid stance and hawk-like eyes. War had changed much of her since the old days, when the Tree of Life had stood unmarred. 

War had changed Estes too and the rest of the surviving Moon Elves. They were the most ancient of all elvenkind and so had been tied much more closely to the Land of Dawn than the younger races, save perhaps the ancient great dragons. When the land suffered, they suffered too. 

War was such a curious horror: Whereas Estes was humbled by the calamity, it had hardened the hearts and hands of his sister. 

Foregoing his misgivings for now, Estes stood upon the dais and spread out his arms. “I welcome you all to Azrya Woodlands, home of the elven-folks,” he announced, his voice carrying well and clear to his audience in the Great Hall of Silvermoon. 

General Zilong took the lead, interestingly enough, and bowed his respect before the others followed suit. 

“We are honoured to come into your hall, Moonlight King,” the young man said graciously. He spoke with a confident and correct Common, though with a heavy oriental accent. More importantly, the impression that Estes perceived from him was similar to the Great Dragon Spear he was wielding – elegant and deceptively resilient despite the elaborate ornamentation. 

Miya did not shift her attention from Ambassador Yu Zhong, albeit doing so from the corner of her eyes. She _knew_ too. 

Then again, they already knew in some way though not to this extent. The delegation had come with twofold purposes. The runner sent ahead of them had ensured the king was informed of it. 

“It is a long journey that you have to traverse from Cadia Riverlands,” Estes said. Granted, a Spell of Arrival was involved but it still took repeated jumps to several usable towers still left standing between Cadia Riverlands and Azrya Woodlands, and a horseback ride to the depths of the woods besides. “Take your rest and your pleasures for now. Rest your mind and body without worry – Here is the hallowed domain of the moon and evil does not traipse into the light so recklessly.” 

Ambassador Yu Zhong’s eyes glittered, just for a second. Estes might have waived it aside as a trick of the eyes if not for his instinct telling him otherwise. 

“The visitor’s quarters have been prepared for your comfort, honoured guests. My elves will show you the way and, should you require anything during your stay, please inform them. We will do what we can to accommodate you.” 

So saying, a retinue of elven attendants and guards emerged from between the pillars lining the hall; five sabre-toothed cats were led forward, a mount for each of the guests. The aforementioned quarters were not too far away from the Luna Temple – trivial compared to the distance they had already braved in coming here – but it was a traditional courtesy of the Moon Elves to offer such expediencies. It was also convenience in a sense that the Luna Temple was related to their visitation, though that was known only to a limited circle of his people. 

General Zilong acknowledged with another bow. He rose with a warrior’s poise and spoke in a gentleman’s polish, “We are grateful, Moonlight King.” 

It was obvious that none of them had had dire cats as mounts, some more so than others. General Zilong, graceful as his impression suggested, had the least difficulty and was the last to take his place since he was assisting the others first. Wanwan was among those needing help but she befriended her mount the quickest; soon enough she learned to sit properly on the feline’s glossy back. Baxia struggled, seemingly unfamiliar with riding steeds altogether. The geomancer and the assassin took little time to find their respective comforts though to Estes’ eyes, their postures suggested familiarity on horsebacks. Yu Zhong, the second last to take his seat, took his time observing his designated cat then leapt onto its back as he scoffed away Zilong’s concern. 

A very interesting, confusing and telling interactions, all in all, and Estes was lost in thought as soon as they were out of eyesight and well out of earshot. 

Miya was much less reserved with her thoughts. “I’m not too sure about this, brother.” 

“You have fought alongside the general before this. You mentioned that he is a trustworthy ally and a mighty warrior,” Estes pointed out, referring to General Zilong whom she had met and befriended while a weakened Estes fell into a recuperative slumber. 

“That he is,” Miya said. It was during the campaigns against the orcish invasions on the Eastern coasts which overlooks Cadia Riverlands. “But I cannot vouch for the others.” 

“I understand your concern,” Estes said and frankly, neither could he. However, centuries of kingship through times of strife had made the Moon Elf King resilient and cautiously optimistic. He had lost his hope once; but the moonlight returned in his darkest hours and with it, a covenant of strength to be shared with others. “But they have come from afar for the slightest hope of healing. I’m not sure if I have the right to refuse without at least seeing their concerns with my own eyes.” 

“And now, you have seen,” Miya retorted. It was not unkindness that lent her voice the sharp edges – quite the opposite, in fact. 

“I haven’t seen enough to decide, Miya,” Estes said, his voice low and measured to soothe her alarm. It did not work. 

“I am all for an alliance with Cadia Riverlands but for the other… it is a favour too risky to grant. You and I have seen the shadows of the Black Dragon in _him,”_ Miya insisted. A pit of worry formed in Estes’ stomach that took much of his willpower to suppress. Miya saw this and pressed her attack, “What healing can there be for one touched by the Reverse Scales? Haven’t you been hurt enough to know that this is inviting danger? Do you care more for the Fierce Dragon than the safety of our people? And not _just_ our people – there are reasons why the people of the East are wary of the Black Dragon’s return!” 

Each of these was like her Moon arrows, fired with deadly succession and accuracy. No, Estes wanted none of those troubles on his people or the rest of the Land of Dawn. Estes chose silence for there was no argument to be offered, only that he had felt the obligation to lend his aid. Deep in his heart, he felt as though there were reasons why he would be summoned to the Dragon Trials all those years ago and inducted as one of the Dragon Tamers. 

They knew each other too well. Miya’s shoulders sagged but her expression was firm. “If that is what you wish, then I will lend you my strength. The Moon Disciples are as much warriors as we are monks. We will keep our eyes on him but they shall not step a foot beyond the temple’s hallowed walls, least of all the Ambassador.” 

“That’s a given. They shall stay in their quarters and allowed freedom only in the public gardens.” 

A gilded cage, essentially, but the aid of the Moon did not come without a price. Estes might be kind – some say to a fault – but he was not a fool. 

“Brother…” 

“Yes?” He had thought the discussion concluded. Apparently not. Maybe it would put her at (relative) ease if Estes could advise alternatives other than sole dependence on the Temple of the Moon. “Perhaps you could notify Nana and Harith, maybe even Alucard. It wouldn’t hurt to let them know.” 

“It still could hurt,” Miya said. Again, this was not cruelty rather than a caution against leniency. “But it’ll be less worrisome than no one knowing that the Fierce Dragon is with us.” 

“That too.” 

_“And,”_ she adds with a sternness that reminded Estes much too much of his younger self, “I don’t like the way he is looking at you.” 

_“… ‘he’?”_

Miya tossed back her head much like an agitated horse would do, sending the high ponytail fluttering. “The Ambassador, of course.” 

It ought to be. Estes was the one who would be charged with the healing, so attention would inevitably gather upon him but the reasoning did not provide comfort whatsoever. 

It was one thing to suspect it and another to have it confirmed.


	2. Heir of the Dragon

“Insufferable,” Yu Zhong growled, hiding none of his distaste. He did not need to see jail bars to understand his imprisonment. 

The Moon Elves’ Lunar Aegis was a passive yet powerful force, one that Yu Zhong had foolishly underestimated before he came in direct influence of it. Here in the Enchanted Forest, Luo Yi’s disillusionment spell faded much sooner than expected and left bare his draconic aspects for all to see. 

_‘All’,_ as it happened right now, was fortunately the delegation which had come with him and none of the resident elves. Safely settled in their respective quarters that would be their living arrangement for however long they would be here, Yu Zhong was glad to let go of his façade and let the dragon inside him manifested into his horns and his burning eyes. He saw these changes overtook him as he stood in front of the mirror – surprisingly one of the amenities provided with their lodging – and silently pondered the silliness in his presence here. If the vassals of the Guardian Dragons could exist, why ought he be treated differently for accepting the essence of the Reverse Scales rather than participating in their little games? 

It was as Luo Yi had stated so succinctly – the Great Dragon simply could not bear another with the power and strength to compete against him. As if one could deny destiny from unfolding. 

And yet… 

…why did he, the Black Dragon incarnate, comply with the Great Dragon’s decree? That he should undertake the journey to the domain of the Moon Elves, all for the so-called ‘healing’? Why did he ever agree to this unseen chains? 

_Perhaps deep down, you don’t believe in the Black Dragon just as much as you didn’t your former ‘mentor’._

_Nonsense,_ he retorted. The life flashing in his mind’s eye when he broke the seals on the Reverse Scales was the truth. He was here merely because it served him better to feign compliance for the time being, rather than charging recklessly headlong after the awakening of the Reverse Scales. 

The Ambassador snorted as he let himself fall into the prepared berth. The whole fiasco was more tiring than the journey to Azrya Woodland itself. The Moon Elves were only a temporary setback just as the Great Dragon had been. After a thousand lifetimes of ignorance, time was merely a minor nuisance to the vassal of the Black Dragon. 

_Is it patience that led your waiting – or is it fear?_

Yu Zhong could feel his heart stopping at the thought, jolting him upright. 

Where did that come from? 

But the appearance of Luo Yi cut off his thoughts there and then. She stood as a silent and foreboding phantom, framed by the arched doorway of the elven quarters. Bathed in the heatless lights captured in the lanterns hanging from the wall, she appeared to glow from within as though possessing the light of the very stars her kind used to observe for their astral divination. 

“Lord Yu Zhong,” she said. Her voice was as cold as the air of the heavens and just as distant. She seemed unsurprised at the reversal in Yu Zhong’s appearance. 

“Luo Yi,” he nodded and waited. She did not come here for idle chatting. 

“My powers wane here and the sky above the Enchanted Forest is… senseless to me.” This was said in certain distaste in admitting the shortfalls. She gestured vaguely around her, indicating their accommodation in general. “A spell has been weaved into the perimeter. So far as I can tell, it repels the Abyssal corruption and suppresses most of non-elven magic. It is not something that can be undone unless the forest itself is razed to ashes and the moon is torn asunder.” 

“I’ve suspected as much,” he said airily. The Land of Dawn was not unknown to either of them but the domain of the Moon Elves was a special kind of ‘strange’, as though time behaved differently here than the rest of the world. “Never mind, then. Tell me about Luna Temple.” 

“Very little,” she said resentfully. It was as close to spitting as she would deign to lower herself to. “Legend has it that it is the core of Lunar Aegis – Now that I am here, I’m inclined to believe it. It serves as the main place of worship of the Moon Disciples, governed by a chief priestess. The Inner Sanctum has been seen by no mortal eyes, let alone allowed inside.” 

“Was it not the king who oversees it?” 

“The administration of the temple is separate, though subject to, the kingdom’s government as a whole.” 

“And what of the elf king himself? What did you glean from him?” 

“He has an oddness about him.” 

“An _oddness.”_ The seemingly simple trait merited consideration, coming from the geomancer herself. 

He recalled the Moon Elf King as he stood upon the crescent pulpit in his fine robe and armours that did not hide his willowy, elf-typical build. Like a bow he was; flexible, reserved and (almost) understated. Yu Zhong did not remember many elves nowadays possessing the kind of eyes that the king had – silver throughout and softly aglow like the moon, befitting of his title and his heritage. 

The Ambassador felt his interest stirring in the elf king with his unassuming, scarce words and carefully neutral expression. For a bow was not by itself deadly until it rained its arrows upon its wielder’s foes – swift, silent and precise. 

As insane as it was, Yu Zhong was looking forward to meet the Moon Elf King outside the charade formality. 

Luo Yi wasn’t terribly impressed. She rarely was with anything and spoke flatly, as if reciting through a mundane scroll, “King Estes has held lordship over the Enchanted Forest for well over two thousand years although there were periods when his rule was conferred to a regent. Reportedly, that would be the Priestess of the Moon: Miya, the elf-archer who stood alongside him during our audience with the king.” 

He remembered: a sombre-looking, silver-haired maiden dressed almost thematically identical to the king. It was putative. “His queen.” 

“His _sister,”_ Luo Yi corrected. 

Yu Zhong _blinked,_ comically owlish in his surprise. It never crossed his mind that the king was a widower. “Interesting.” 

“Dangerously distractive,” she countered. Yu Zhong realized that the geomancer was under the impression that he was focused on the archer-priestess rather than her brother. He did not bother with correction, for it applied well to both siblings. 

“What about the other delegates?” 

“They are settling in. The elven kingdom is a new experience to them.” 

The heavenly Dragon’s Altar was not foreign to any of them but the abode of the Moon Elves held a different mysticism than that of the Great Dragon. It was new to Yu Zhong as well, though the same could not be said of the geomancer. She had walked the land earlier and longer than himself – at least, himself in his current form. He had met elves when touring the Land of Dawn with her – those who wandered, those who had chosen lonely lives, those who decided to see the world beyond their borders. None of them possessed the kind of aura that their king wielded as gracefully as a warrior with his sword. 

Not even Miya, his sister and Priestess of Luna Temple. 

This visit might just be more, well, _interesting_ than anticipated.


	3. A Crack in the Wall

Another conference was held between the Moon Elves leadership and the Oriental delegations two days later. 

Rather than the Great Hall of Silvermoon, this meeting was held in the wide common area at the centre of the visitors’ quarters. As typical of elven handiworks, said building was a wonder of stones and ancient trees, melded by magic and constructed with clear homage to the woodlands. Floral motifs were abundant and the walls were embedded with speckles of glowing stones to recall the twinkling of stars on cloudless, moonless nights. An enchanted roof could be commanded to display either the sky as it was or to project a memory of it for when the weather was less forgiving – for now, the fair, sunlit sky favoured a showing of the former and illuminating the interiors with golden rays. Had it been at night, blue fairy-orbs would burn with heatless light in a number of silver lanterns to provide an ethereal illumination that was so loved by the Moon Elves. 

In this gentle light and seated around a circular table carved out of volcanic stones, Moon Elves and the Cadia Riverlands’ envoy discussed their diplomatic matters. But as they spoke, parts of the elf king’s mind strayed at the sight of Ambassador Yu Zhong. 

To Estes’ none too much of a surprise, the mirages of the Black Dragon aspects in their previous encounter had solidified into reality. Estes was even less surprised that the Ambassador was unperturbed by them, going as far as seemingly _flaunting_ his horns and unnatural eyes. 

It was almost certain that Ambassador Yu Zhong was the vassal of the Great Black Dragon. 

Come to think of it, it would have been more peculiar if Estes _was_ surprised. The Great Dragon Trials intrinsically summoned people from far and wide and catalysing encounters that would not have occurred otherwise. Through it, vassals of the Guardian Dragons could be evaluated for their worth and capacity to shoulder their burdens. This was the origin and reason of the Dragon Tamers; every few generations, mortals were inducted into their ranks – Estes was one of them, chosen to represent the wisdom of Rattan Dragon and one of the most long-standing in his position. 

As it happened, other dragon-vassals had been elected anew after the passing of the previous generations. Ling the Cyan Finch was one of these, a vassal known as Night Shade embodying beauty, stealth and deadliness. It would explain the vaguely familiar sensation the assassin was exuding that he might or might not be aware of himself. 

Yu Zhong’s situation aside, the Great Dragon must have encouraged the delegates into his path for a number of reasons. Diplomatic relations were still fledgling and made more difficult by the troubles stirring in both East and West. Cadia Riverlands had been secluded for too long for its own good. 

“The old Silk Road has become treacherous nowadays,” Miya was saying and snapping Estes out of his thoughts. He knew about the Silk Road; had been around when the first traders forged a path that would later be named for the most valuable commodity transported along it, destined for the coasts where trading ships awaited their cargoes. 

The last time he traversed it a decade ago, it was descending into ruination the way the Emerald Road had. Raiding orcs terrorized even the bravest adventurers before Miya took up her bow and led her skirmishes to drive the monsters back into the Barren Lands. However, the peace that dawned was more reminiscent of one preceding the storm. Nevertheless, General Zilong was determined that it could be done; from the corner of his eyes, Estes noticed the frown on Ambassador Yu Zhong’s face. It was not an impossible notion, in which case the annoyance – for it held the demeanour of a senior dismissing a younger student – would be caused by General Zilong as a person rather than his claims. It would appear that their rivalry ran deeper than their political opinions. 

By the time that the meeting was adjourned, Estes was more than grateful for the liberation. 

The elf king preferred not to think that part of his relief was owed to his escape from the Ambassador’s scrutiny. 

“You look troubled, Estes,” Miya said as she rode alongside her brother, their feline mounts bounding abreast gracefully along the forest trail towards their tree-palace. Behind them, the visitor’s quarters dwindled among the tree foliage the more distance was put between it and them. 

Much too much thoughts were racing in his mind that made it difficult to arrange a confident answer. Miya’s claim that the draconic Ambassador had taken a special – and somewhat objectionable – attention made him all the more conscious of it. The breeze in his passing drowned his repeated sighs until at last, he relented with a reply. 

“It’s the Ambassador, I’m afraid.” The mere mention of him brought back the mental images of his violet eyes, his draconic horns, the poorly concealed smirk as though reliving an inside joke. “I’m not sure what course should I pursue in his healing – if it is even a ‘healing’. I shall need an extensive stay in the library to help me with the decision.” 

“An exorcism, likely,” Miya said drily – A jest that was unexpectedly inspiring. 

“You’re not _too_ wrong,” he admitted after several paw-steps in thoughtful silence. “I suppose I can start with modifying the Spell of Purification.” 

Originally devised to cleanse the land of Abyssal blights, its versatility had also seen its usages in the battlefields when a debuff curse might have meant life or death for a soldier. They were still uncertain of the nature of influences exerted by the Reverse Scales and it was complicated further by the its voluntary assimilation into the Ambassador. An incompatible spell was already a problem on a normal day; there would be even more uncertainties when the one concerned was touched by one of the ancient dragons. 

Moreover, that was not the only concerns Estes had in mind. 

Luo Yi, a practitioner of the lost arts and who might very well be the last of her kind, struck the elf king with a quiet wariness. Behind her veil and the veneer of mysticism, Estes perceived from her the swift and deadly nature of a viper. She spoke little but ever she remained in the Ambassador’s shadows. 

Though superficially different in demeanours, the geomancer reminded him of Queen Alice of the Abyss who rose to a tainted glory from the dead bodies of foes and kinsmen alike. 

The chill that clawed in his spine there and then had nothing to do with the breeze of his ride. He clutched the fur on the nape of his dire cat; the warmth he felt was telling that the tips of his fingers were abruptly cold as well. 

Thankfully, the loping strides of his steed concealed the shivering from Miya’s eyes. 

“I need the eyes and ears of the temple,” he said finally, “an acolyte of the Moon would be less alarming than one of the Shadowguards, and more apt to resist Dongyu magic than a maid.” 

“You shall have it. But what is this about, brother?” 

So he told her.


	4. Behind Closed Door

The messenger who asked for Ambassador Yu Zhong that morning was a mild-mannered elf, dressed in the elegant ways of its kin and bearing a symbol that he didn’t recognize. Judging by his purpose here, Yu Zhong would guess that it was the mark of a courier. 

As Yu Zhong accepted the scroll addressed to him, he realized a new and disconcerting habit about himself. 

The first thing that Yu Zhong noted beyond the messenger’s attire was his eyes – they were dark and distinctly pupiled rather than uniformly white. Here was a pale-haired elf that was the archetypical image of his kind with his narrow, delicate features and the natural grace which surpassed the sea-people of Vonetis Island, apparent when he executed his bow before departing the Ambassador’s vicinity. 

And _still_ he paled in comparison to his king. 

Therein lies Yu Zhong’s newest trouble: Every glimpse of elven strangers brought his mind back to the elven monarch like some sort of reference. A temple acolyte’s white hair appeared grey to Estes’ silver tresses; an attendant’s robe would have been luxurious if he hadn’t seen the intricacies of the kingly mantle; even the young messenger caught him by surprise for only then Yu Zhong realized that somehow, he could _feel_ the ages emanating from Estes’ otherwise youthful visage. 

When he closed the door behind him and turned around, Luo Yi had extracted herself out of the bed they were sharing the previous night. Unselfconsciously, the mage stood in nothing but the flimsiest of sleeping gown. 

“What is it, Lord Yu Zhong?” 

Beauty is subjective, yes, but it would be rather difficult to deny that Luo Yi was physically attractive. Though human, she might have passed for an elf herself if her rounded ears didn’t give her away. Her movements were languid – a snake charmer’s perfection that could lull dangers into an unwitting slumber – but harshness radiated out of her eyes. It was the same unyielding stare she had worn when testing Yu Zhong’s mettles for his worth to accept the Reverse Scales. When they tangled together in the sheets, skin against naked skin, Yu Zhong’s mind was filled with the imagery of python – slick, sinuous… encompassing. 

It was an arrangement of practicality. Yu Zhong couldn’t even deem it a ‘relationship’ beyond that of a master and assistant; its foundation, convenience. 

The hem of her gown trailed after her step like waves on the shoreline. Closer she came until Yu Zhong could see her breasts swaying underneath that excuse of a clothing. Slender fingers touched upon his biceps, requesting the yet-undelivered answer. 

Only then did Yu Zhong remembered that the scroll remained wax-sealed with the sigil of a crescent moon. 

Luo Yi’s eyes grew colder still at the sight of it. 

He broke the seal and unfold the length of parchment. There was another crescent moon at the bottom of it along with a signature in unfamiliar alphabets. Regardless, the flowing signature matched the handwriting above in which the writer identified himself as Estes. Proceeding that was a request for an audience in the same common room where the previous meeting was held. 

“I advise caution, my lord,” she said. _Now_ he could hear disdain in her voice, see it glinting dangerously in her eyes. 

“He is trivial.” Though he has never come face to face with him before this visit, he has heard rumours of the elf king. If anything, this Estes was shaped in similar mould as the Great Dragon… as Zilong. Too merciful and foolishly idealistic. 

In the same breath, he hastily compartmentalized that opinion from his seeming curiousity in the elf king. 

“He looks upon your blessing as a curse,” she continued, “just like all others who couldn’t understand a gift from a _different_ benefactor.” 

The scroll bearing the elf king’s message was tossed aside in agreement, to be bothered by it later _after_ he entertained Luo Yi’s much more inviting presence. It lay in a sad, crumpled heap on the feet of the bed. 

“A coward.” He meant to spat it out with a befitting ridicule but sighed instead, for Luo Yi’s hand had travelled from arm to shoulder, squeezing tense muscles into loosening. Despite her public aloofness, here in Yu Zhong’s chamber she was warm, tender and pleasant to touch. 

Her other hand rested on the nape of his neck, fingertips skimming the coarse hairline. Her garment did nothing to diminish the softness of her body when it was pressed against him, front to front, the scent of jasmine filling his mind like a shrine’s incense. His own hands moved without thought, finding a slender waist to grasp with one and supporting the small of her back with the other. 

“I want you to be there when I meet him,” Yu Zhong whispered in a voice roughened by hunger. Dragon vassal or no, his mortal body knew enough of the pleasure of the flesh to want it. 

“As you wish, my lord,” she returned with a slight purr into the shell of his ear. Her voice stoked a fire in the pit of his stomach and powered his hands to pull her close. 

When they wanted it, they take it. It was that simple. 

She sighed into their kiss and pulled them both towards the still-warm bed, wherein Yu Zhong lost himself in the lust.


	5. Belated Introduction

“Oh?” 

Nana paused in her merry skipping and rose on her tippy-toes, trying to identify the figure she’s just glimpsed earlier through the bushes. She was sure that she wasn’t imagining it. Even Molina perked up curiously in the direction she was staring. 

Then, she saw him. 

“Dragon boy!” 

“Huh? Wha –?” 

Zilong’s reflex was commendable, all things considering – especially with a chestful of Molina knocking air out of his windpipe with her surprise lunge. Any semblance of poise was gone when Nana too joined in the impromptu tackling and overwhelmed his already precarious balance right to the ground. 

“Oh – Hey, Nana!” He said – or gasped, as it was more like it as he found himself flat on his back and fending off Molina’s attempts at licking. “What are you doing here?” 

An upraised finger was thrust within an inch of his nose, waggling admonishingly. “Nope. What are _you_ doing here? – Molina, come now. Off that poor chap!” 

The cat spirit returned to Molina’s embrace from which it continued to stare and chirp happily at Zilong’s struggle to his feet. His attempts at chatting was cut short by a fit of coughing from the dust raised from trying to pat the dirt off his pants. 

“Miya told me that there’ll be people visiting the woodlands. Never thought it’ll be you!” 

“Heh. Well, surprise!” He pushed himself back to his feet with flourish and swept his arms grandly as though as though basking in the clapping of an impressed audience. “Who else they’ll be sending if not me, the awesome –” 

“Yes, we get it. The –” She puffed out her chest and deepened her voice as best as she could, which was not much, _“– Dragon Boy from the East, Hero of the People, the Cloud Dragon dancing through the battlefields!”_

He laughed his boisterous laughter – the same way as he did when they first met. Maybe his voice had gone ever so slightly deeper now but it wasn’t anything too noticeable. It was in his bearing that Nana saw the biggest difference: A decade ago, on the Eastern coastlines of the land of Dawn, he had teamed up with Nana and Miya in driving back the orc forces invading the region. Back then, he was just a young boy, a teen just coming into the strength and skills to wield the large spear that had cut through the orc armies. 

Humans really did age quickly, didn’t they? 

“What brings you here, Dragon boy?” 

“My father sent me.” He sounded simultaneously proud and worried of the fact; Nana was made _more_ interested with Zilong’s odd avoidance as if alluding to something super-secret. “Well, _practically_ my father anyway. He was –” 

Right there and then, Nana’s furry little ears twitched – the subtlest sounds of paws thumping the leaf-covered floor caught her interest. She should know, having been around Irithel and Leo as long as she did. Zilong noticed the reaction but not the sounds, for the strides of elven dire cats were as silent as they were swift. Nana could hear a pair of them approaching rapidly. 

“What is it?” 

His warrior’s instinct was expecting trouble but no sooner did the question was asked, a couple of mounted felines made their appearances at the end of the trail that led back to the visitor’s quarters. Nana instantly recognized the white one as the personal steed of the king; the blue-grey one with fur patterns reminiscent of Leo was assuredly Miya’s. 

She could hear the “Oh,” of recognition from the warrior standing beside her. Promptly Zilong worked to pat out the remaining dust in his clothing and smooth out the fabric to be more presentable. Both cats slowed their strides once they passed into the perimeter of the visitor’s quarters, eventually coming to a stop beside the waiting Nana and Zilong. 

“Hello, Estes! Hi, Miya!” 

The latter leapt off her cat’s back gracefully; her brother did so more slowly but no less confidently than her. They both returned Nana’s greeting while Molina was content to waddle right up to the dire cats, greeting them after its own fashion. 

As for Zilong – 

“Uh, good morning, Your Highnesses.” 

Nana didn’t expect the stumbling when the warrior had always been clever and quick with his tongue. Not to mention a little funny since Zilong had been happy with just _‘Miya’_ before Nana spilled the beans on Miya’s status among the Moon Elves. 

…or maybe he’s nervous now when there’s her big brother watching. 

It would explain the not-so-surreptitious glances he threw in Estes’ direction even whilst talking to Miya concerning the royal siblings’ presences. 

“I promised to meet Nana here when she could find the time to return –” 

“Nya, that’s right!” 

“– and Estes has some matters that need discussing with the Ambassador,” Miya said, completely unaffected by Nana’s interruption. 

“You made it sound so serious, Miya,” the king finally spoke. He was addressing all who were present yet the tilt of his head indicated that he emphasized this for Zilong’s peace of mind. “It is only a preliminary observation before I can proceed with anything else. As I understand it, the Ambassador was a protégé of the Great Dragon, correct?” 

“He’s my senior by a generation,” Zilong said after being prompted with Nana’s quick elbow to his shin. Gesturing towards the visitor’s complex where the delegation stayed in, he continued, “I think you’ll have more info if you asked Baxia. He’s a student alongside Yu Zhong a few years back before he, uh, left.” 

“This would be before the Reverse Scales, is that right?” 

“Oh yeah, that’s –… I mean, that’s right, Your Majesty.” 

As much as Nana wanted to empathize, Zilong’s confusion was preciously rare and amusing to witness first-hand. Better yet, Estes too had noticed the warrior’s fish-out-of-the-waterness that only made the spectacle all the better. 

“Please, there is no obligation for formality at the moment. Call me Estes, if you will,” Estes said graciously; Nana noted how Zilong’s eyes darted towards Miya then back at Estes, as if trying to determine that this was not just an empty courtesy. 

Miya simply shrugged. “We always went by name basis anyway on the battlefields.” 

Zilong looked like he’d just successfully answered a sphinx’s riddle. “So…” 

“We will speak again, Zilong. It will be remiss of me to keep the Ambassador waiting. I am truly sorry but I have to excuse myself for now,” he said, bowed and left the group to Miya’s discretion. 

The young warrior was still blinking after Estes’ gradually diminishing form as the latter made his way to the entrance that led to the common room, where this Yu Zhong was supposedly waiting. Another of Nana’s elbow-to-the-shin woke him up. 

“Your brother is scary,” Zilong blurted out and looked immediately regretful for speaking that out loud. “I mean –” 

“Estes is the least scary person you’ll ever meet,” Miya said, eyebrow raised and arms akimbo in a gesture of _What are you even talking about._ “Honestly, Nana is probably the scariest person among us right now.” 

“Hey!” 

Zilong held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, I don’t mean it in a bad way. He’s just very –” 

“– very, very serious, right? I _told_ Miya that she needed to watch out for him before he ends up with a heart stroke or something!” 

Despite herself, Nana couldn’t help but giggle at the memory that surfaced. It caused a distracted Molina to perk up her ears in case there’s some fun it is missing; returning to its snuggles with the dire cats once it’s satisfied that there’s nothing worthwhile to barge into. 

Miya’s eyebrow rose higher. “Nana, spiking his drinking water with _moonshine mead_ is _not_ what I would call ‘helping’ with his stress.” 

The cat-elf let her ears droop like an upset dog’s. That usually helped in mollifying Miya. “It works… in a way.” 

“A Spell of Revitalization is not supposed to put glitters on one’s outfit. Thank the Moon that it’s a harmless miscast.” 

“The glitter cape suits him though!” 

“Estes has a glitter cape?” Zilong interrupted despite his better ideas not to. 

“Not voluntarily,” Miya said and her eyebrows were now curved like a pair of drawn bows. It was her typical look when she deemed a conversation was heading into inappropriate details. 

Which was a shame, really, because Nana thought that the Dragon-gifted outfit was infinitely improved with a little bit of shinies. Plus, green looked much better on Estes than his usual bulky battlefront armours. Zilong’s face scrunched with the effort to picture Estes in said glittery cape but the too-little details must have disappointed him. Too bad that Estes hadn’t donned it for… well, for a _looooong_ time – not since he woke up from his slumber – and likely not again anytime soon. 

“You two have too much time on your hands,” Miya said and planted her feet, literally and figuratively. She indicated her cat and Estes’ who were happily grooming each other and Molina, “Rather than entertaining something useless, why don’t you help me stable Nightarrow and Silver? I don’t know how long we’ll be here.” 

There was a collective groan from Nana and Zilong. To be fair, Nana didn’t find tending to the cats bothersome – entertaining, actually. It’s just about sending the message. 

“Come on, Miya –” 

“Meanwhile,” the elf intercepted Zilong’s protest with a triumphant smirk, “we might get you to practice riding our felines. You have a good form already; if you are used to it, your spear will be even deadlier when wielded from the back of a battle-cat.” 

Zilong’s pride wanted to deny the bribe; his widening eyes were telling that his interest was well and truly roused. Miya chuckled. 

Nana thought that he really needed to work on his expressions if he ever hoped to fool anyone. Maybe next time.


	6. Oracle of the Hidden

“We meet again, Moonlight King,” Yu Zhong started, a smirk readily in place. _“Finally.”_

Yu Zhong intended it as the dipping of a toe; Estes’ reaction was barely a ripple in a still-watered lake. An eyebrow was raised but little else broke through his calm. 

“Hello, Ambassador,” he said. “Thank you for accepting my request. I trust that your accommodation with us is satisfactory?” 

It was Yu Zhong’s turn to raise _his_ eyebrow. So. This Estes was going to be _that_ sort of a fellow. Leaning back in his chair, he said, “I hardly think that our lodging is the subject of concern here.” 

“Nevertheless,” Estes returned, unperturbed, “it is still my concern as the host.” 

Oh, this ought to be infuriating. This elf king really was going to be another high-and-mighty copycat of the Great Dragon. Yu Zhong suppressed his temptation to retaliate and settled with looking directly at his companion. He was ever so surprised, if reluctantly pleased, to find that the elf king had no trouble matching his stare. Yu Zhong expected a challenge when their eyes locked – but it did not feel like so. 

Held in the elf king’s gaze, Yu Zhong felt as if he was a riveting book. 

It was an entirely different atmosphere than when Luo Yi observed him for the signs of the Black Dragon, or when she spoke of the grandness of the Reverse Scale if only he had the will to seize it. 

Speaking of whom… 

As always with her promise, the geomancer made good on it and took her place beside her master. Her very presence emboldened Yu Zhong that he didn’t feel so alone in front of this frustratingly placid elf. There was no Oriental Fighters to distract him and no elf-priestess to hover around her brother as though the man couldn’t be trusted to take care of himself. There was, however, an elf attendant that he didn’t remember seeing beforehand who took Miya’s customary place beside the king. Not a word passed her lips; her eyes were kept respectfully down, never straying too far so as to meet Yu Zhong’s stare. 

For all the good she did, she might as well not be there. 

At long last, Estes relented with a sigh. “If you rather we move on to the topic at hand, it’s fine too.” 

The Ambassador sighed, affecting a hint of boredom that _just_ skirted insolence. “Then please do move on, _Sire.”_

The unflattering tone in the honorific was reflexive, a habit cultivated after too many encounters with man-children who was too easily provoked to be suitable in the seats of power. Yu Zhong thrived on getting a rise out of his oppositions. After all, a reckless foe was an easy one – as was an overconfident one. 

But Yu Zhong’s cast bait was met with an unflappable equanimity. Nodding, Estes replied, “Very well. I would like to start with the circumstances of your birth.” 

“It doesn’t matter how it begins,” the Ambassador said, as reflexive as a cornered beast snarling his defiance. For what seemed like a harmless question felt inexplicably like a spear through the chest. “Before the Reverse Scale, this body is little more than a puny human. That human is no more.” 

“On the contrary, a human is bound to the world, and the world is in turn shaped by the many agents of destiny. I am simply trying to determine if any is particularly dominant at your birth, for a start.” 

From his memories, those of the Fierce Black Dragon’s rose from the corner of consciousness like a wary serpent. Ever after the unsealing of the Reverse Scale, much of that life remained hidden in the fog of time that Yu Zhong could only glimpse in flashes. Though he knew the fall of the Fierce Black Dragon was incited by his so-called ‘comrade’, he could recall nothing of that moment. He had only the words of others to confirm it – Luo Yi’s for his past death and the Great Dragon’s for the start of his current life. 

He did not like where this was going. He was not prepared for his retaliation to backfire like this. 

“With all due respect, you are asking the wrong person. Only the Great Dragon can answer your curiosities and as you can see, he is not here,” Luo Yi spoke for the first time, coolness clinging to her words as frost on winter mornings clambered to roof-tiles. 

For the first time also, Yu Zhong saw the elf’s expression being something other than serenity. His eyes narrowed upon both of his guests. “A shame, then.” 

Yu Zhong suddenly found himself in a newfound hesitation before the Moon Elf King. It was a neutral, receptive reply but the tone only _pretended_ to hide a sense of innocence. The imagery of bow struck his mind once again, clearer than ever, that he was half-expecting said weaponry to materialize when the Moon Elf held a hand aloft. 

But it wasn’t a bow. 

Manifesting from the glow emitted from his palm was an innocuous if grand-looking scroll which, when unrolled, revealed elegant hieroglyphs not unlike Estes’ signature at the end of his invitation letter. Yu Zhong’s senses pricked curiously for the mysterious symbols emitted subtle magic, as though the very act of writing had instilled them with the author’s power. The less knowledgeable would have dismissed it as a stage trick; Yu Zhong’s affinity to primal magic understood instinctively that this was a gift the Moon Elf King was born to. 

From the geomancer’s silence, the Ambassador suspected that she was similarly astounded by the fact. 

Compared to artificial arcana that favoured an intermediary, inherent magic required a direct casting by the host. Estes’ gift turned his writing into miniature magical founts, effectively bridging the divide by containing his intended effects into runes that could be shared simply by reading them. It would be like an instant mastery – though temporary – over particular spells. If so, this would be something kings and queens would pay a mountain of fortunes to claim for. With as little as a recital and the knowledge of relevant runes, puny human soldiers could be empowered for a limited time into an army of Heroes! 

And what exactly the Moon Elf King was doing here with his ability? What restrain him from utilizing it to its fullest, that he offered merely the service of healing like some mundane soft-hearted do-gooder? 

The very thought of such waste offended the Black Dragon incarnate. 

“Ambassador?” 

Yu Zhong came to the realization that he was glaring past the point of appropriateness and decided that he couldn’t be bothered to stop. He _shouldn’t._ Not for this fool of a bleeding-heart. 

The Moon Elf heaved a sigh, heavy with mourning. 

The inconsolable sense that he had been played the fool was infuriating but try as he might, Yu Zhong could not hide his curiousity when the elf king beckoned towards the undecipherable runes, some of which were now glowing in different colours. 

“Unfortunately, the star-chart of Cadian heaven is lacking in our keeping. This only lists the prominent astral bodies during the Era of Vigil. Some extrapolation will be necessary but hopefully, this is a start.” 

Astonished, Yu Zhong’s brooding immediately took a backseat. 

The Era of Vigil… That would be about a hundred generations ago, give or take a few centuries. It would be after the exodus of the Great Dragon and the Black Dragon to Cadia Riverlands, inadvertently leaving the Land of Dawn to the defence of the remaining Guardians against the Kraken and the Deep Ones army. Yu Zhong had difficulties believing that Estes was around for that long… 

…but Luo Yi had stated that his kingship alone endured for two thousand years. Legend had it that Moon Elves were supposedly the originator of elvendom and, like the rest of their offshoots, were not immortal; only incredibly long-lived. 

This Estes might as well be. 

  


* * * * *

  


Wanwan had meant to take a short stroll when she did a double-take on the occupants in the common room while on her way to the public garden. She darted back into the nearest shadow, quick as a startled cat, and dared to peek around the corner. 

Yes, that was Yu Zhong and the geomancer and the Moon Elf King, sitting together at the round table. Though their words were indistinct, Wanwan didn’t like how _serious_ they all looked. 

But what she disliked even more was how useless she felt. 

Why were they insisting that Yu Zhong was… evil? Even this elf king seemed to be unfairly worried around him. If only he’d seen the man when Wanwan first found him, all bruised and battered from a fall down the mountainside… King Estes might’ve been kinder in his prospects. 

It had felt like a lifetime ago. Wanwan missed for that peaceful time when Yu Zhong had stayed at her abode. The days spent training and developing their martial arts. Going for hunting trips in the woods so that they could bring dinner to their table. Seeing him help her father with chores around the house. The awe she had felt while listening to Yu Zhong’s anecdotes of his travels and imagining all the wonders he’d seen… 

To this day, Wanwan still didn’t understand why they had to end – or why it ended the way it did. 

What she knew – what she wanted to believe – was that the Primordial Spirit was entrusted into her care for a reason, one that was nicer than the Great Dragon’s suspicions. If he’d wanted to become _The_ Fierce Black Dragon without a shred of his human self, he wouldn’t have done things this way. 

If only she could reassure the others about this… 

Speaking of whom, there’s Baxia, sitting cross-legged on the grass in the garden under a huge oak tree. Wanwan only vaguely remembered having left the common room as quietly as she could while nostalgia caught up to her. 

Sensing her approach, Baxia looked up. “Lil’ miss.” 

“Cut that out,” Wanwan retorted, her hands on her hips admonishingly and her tail lashing around behind her. “I’m not little and I’m not a miss. I’m Wanwan!” 

She made herself stand tall and upright to prove her point… 

…which didn’t amount to much with Baxia sitting and being big enough still to look her eye-to-eye. That’s not fair – Baxia would be larger next to almost everyone human! Next to someone more average, like Zilong and Ling, she’s not that much shorter. 

To his credit, Baxia didn’t argue and only nodded in a manner of _‘my bad’._

“Right.” Honestly, she felt like a balloon being pricked off. She’s used to going on the offensive whenever needed – which was more time than she cared to count – but Baxia took the air right out of her by backing off. _“Right._ Okay.” 

Losing her train of thoughts, Wanwan plopped down on the grass right beside Baxia and pulled up her knees to her chest. Behind her, the tip of her tail curled and twitched agitatedly. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I’m… Yeah, I’m alright.” 

But she couldn’t help from glancing around at her new, non-Cadian environment. There’s nothing wrong with it aside from being _different_ from home. When told that they were going to meet the Moon Elves, Wanwan expected people like the nature spirits, little finger-sized pixies with bright eyes and shiny butterfly wings who lived in tree-hollows and frolicked about in a field of flowers. Only maybe a bit more… well, _moon-y._ Admittedly, she’d gasped (and gawked) at her first sight of a Moon Elf: That one looked more like a long-haired, pointy-eared Ling than anything she’d imagined. 

And this place – it’s a full-on woodland, nothing like the jungle that she was used to! Everything here felt old with the tall, twisting trees growing packed together, their foliage casting shadows deeper than those in the jungle at Jaguar’s Peak. She rarely stepped out of her valley before Yu Zhong but now, she’s halfway across the world from her homeland. And from her father. 

“…Wanwan?” 

“I’m fine. Promise.” It just felt… well, oddly restless knowing that she’s so far away from everything she’s familiar with, and with no quick way home. “…Do you like it here, Baxia?” 

He paused. Scratching his grizzled beard, _hmm_ ing thoughtfully. “It’s alright. Can’t practice too much with my shields though, the elves won’t like it if I knock down the walls.” 

Which would be all too easy to do when Baxia deployed his wheel-like twin shields. However, there was thoughtfulness to the warrior that Wanwan didn’t think to be related to his practice problems since he was staring somewhat intently at her. 

Actually, he looked like he was focused on her… tail? 

“…What?” 

“I’m just thinking.” 

“Come on, Baxia. You’re leaving me hanging and you know it!” 

“My bad. I’m just wondering… do you know if there are Tangmen people living here?” 

“What?” Then, “No, not that I know of.” 

“Huh.” 

“You’re still leaving me hanging here.” 

The warrior shrugged. She was so close to frustration, so close to doing something drastic like shaking him off for some answer, before Baxia resumed, “It’s just that I thought I saw a Tangmen child somewhere around here.” 

Wanwan’s tail flexed on its own, mirroring its owner’s surprise. “…That doesn’t make sense.” 

“She has a tail, mind. Bushy, the sort like a fox. Or a raccoon. Brown-ish. About this tall,” and the warrior held his hand at Wanwan’s waist-level: an average child-height. 

Father had told her that the rest of her tribe had dispersed to all corners of Cadia Riverlands, but outside of the land altogether? Nobody but Yu Zhong had travelled extensively into the Land of Dawn. 

“Maybe you’re not seeing things right…?” Wanwan said, finishing her claim as a question instead. Because truth to be told, she couldn’t be sure that Baxia was mistaken since in that very moment, she saw a sliver of a brown, bushy tail before it vanished into a bush. 

When she went to investigate said bush, there was nothing but a disgruntled pheasant, chirping indignantly and flapping off in a cascade of feathers at her invasion.


	7. The Twilight Harmony

It was a typical start of a dream. 

There was a certain ethereal lightness to it that was familiar and made unmistakable after a repeated instances of vivid dreaming. Estes recognized the towering trees around him as he walked through the forest trail, at peace with the homeliness surrounding him until he found himself staring at a particular tree. It was a tall, rough-barked aspen, already old by the time Estes was born. He could feel his frown deepening for this tree was merely a blackened stump now, one of the victims of the many Abyssal skirmishes into the woodlands. Yet here it stood still, ancient but still living, its deep green leaves rustling a long-forgotten music with the wind as its fiddle. 

Just as Estes thought of this, the tree burst into a sweltering conflagration. The tips of his hair singed in a matter of seconds. The elf king stumbled back from the oppressive heat, inhaling blistering smoke that smelled of fell Abyssal magic. 

The aspen was no more, reduced to ashes by fire the colour of blood. 

_No, not again,_ Estes thought although conviction was difficult to come by when his throat ached with every cough. _It’s just a dream. This is not happening!_

But the alarm felt thusly was all too real for in the distance, a pack of demonic beasts swarmed forth from the end of the path. Some walked on twos, others on all fours, all hissing and grunting with the maniacal lust for blood and flesh. Behind them came the hordes of orcs like a river’s monsoon flooding over a barren plain, their war-cries echoing alongside the stomps of marching feet. Beyond this throng, the high peaks of Lantis Mountains rose to pierce the North-Western horizon. This, then, would be the Western fringes of Azrya Woodlands bordering the Despair Place. Even in dreams, Estes could feel colour draining from his face. He knew exactly where and when this scene before him had taken place. 

Such massive host of invasion had not been seen since the day Queen Alice led her minions into war with the Moon Elves. 

“My, my – if it isn’t the King of the Moon Elves himself,” a dark, wickedly alluring voice whispered before its owner emerged from a flowing trail of magenta aura, confirming what Estes was reluctant to believe. Draconic wings stretched high and wide over her back; a pair of radiant horns proudly crowned the head of the witch-queen. “I must say: It’s been a long time coming, Your Majesty.” 

“Alice.” There was a hoarseness in his voice and magic in his hands. Old loathing flowed afresh at the sight of her. 

The scene around him changed though not the Queen of the Apocalypse herself. She surveyed the battlefield below them with calculative gaze. The advancing hordes were now halted in plain-wide clash against hosts of men and elves. Weapons brandished found targets in living flesh, cleaving and spilling life onto the blood-soaked ground. Corpses strewn the plains, inconsequential as fallen leaves and trodden with impunity by the still-living fighting to preserve and to conquest. 

The foul stench of tainted blood and demonic magic almost made him gag but he stood his ground. 

“Moon Elves are such a delight; don’t you agree?” The woman’s voice was a smoky whisper like the promise of something forbidden and euphoric. “I wonder… how much better the life of their king would taste?” 

Vampiric aura glowed on Alice’s clawed fingertips even as Estes watched his adversary. She was far more powerful then compared to now, but so was Estes. Her smile was filled with the same malice that was in her predatory eyes. For in all the Land of Dawn, the Queen of Apocalypse both despised and lusted after the lifeblood of his people with King Estes standing as an impassable barrier to her ambition. 

There was once a battle hard-fought, hard-won and at a cost that would forever alter Estes’ life. There was no undoing the reality of what Queen Alice had achieved in that fateful encounter. The recuperative sleep enforced upon him afterwards only just managed to preserve his life-force but it could not recover Estes’ magical core to the state it once was. 

This was the pivotal moment of the change, the historical apex of his conflict with the Blood Demon Queen. 

Estes had no intention to live through it even one more time. But as it was often with nightmares, it continued heedlessly to its predetermined conclusion. A helpless Estes was merely a passenger in his own body as elf and demon circled each other for an opening, their magic flowing through their cores like lightning-struck pillars. None of his warriors could come in time, nor Alice’s lackeys. 

This fight belonged to them and none other. 

Which was why it shocked him profoundly to feel his wrist grasped by an unexpected hand. There should be nobody here but Alice and himself, the former of whom seemed to be frozen in a hungry grin. 

“We should leave now, Estes,” the newcomer said and the dream-world instantly dissolved in a whirl of colours and sounds. 

There was no more Queen Alice, no demons, no elves and no humans. In the place of the vanished battlefield was a familiarly vibrant woodland: The Moonlit Forest, the crux of Moon Elves’ existence as the home to the Tree of Life. Standing blinkingly under the great tree’s shade, Estes pondered over what had just transpired when the answer came to him – rather literally, in the form of an elf-maiden with a most unusual appearance. 

Everything about her was contradiction manifest. The wings on her back were one such thing, neither feathered like an angel nor bat-like in the vein of Alice’s. A stripe of black in her flaxen hair. Two-toned, asymmetrical attire. A winged head ornament in black and silver. And most importantly was the twin light-orbs suspended in the crooks of her bladed wings, their colours corresponding to her heterochromic eyes: golden for one and violet for the other. 

He was still dreaming, all right, but this elf-woman was no mere plaything of a troubled sleep. “A pleasure to meet you again, Lunox.” 

“Likewise, Estes, though I’m sorry to interrupt your Dreaming and caused you distress.” 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you tonight?” 

“Coincidence, mostly.” 

_“‘…Mostly’?”_

Her appearance was only half of her enigma – There was a perpetual melancholy about her, a nostalgia for a life unremembered after an untold passing of time. Her past had been as obscured by time as the Shadow Swamp by the miasma blanketing its stagnant waters. But there was another aspect of her that was most curious and which was the cause of Estes’ renewed concern. If his talent was to bless magic into the works of his hands, Lunox’s was an inexplicable influence over the world of dreams. In fact, it was through her dream-visions that she had come to warn him of Thamuz’ invasion and the danger posed to the Tree of Life, catalysing Estes’ awakening from his recuperative hibernation. 

Remembering this, Estes could not keep his emotions out of his voice. “Pray tell, Lunox. What I have just seen: Is it a history or a prophecy?” 

For a moment, her thoughts and gaze was lost up in the crimson canopy of the Tree of Life. Estes waited for her patiently. 

“That nightmare remains in the past,” she whispered at last, gentle like a breeze. Gentler still was her hand which touched the ivory trunk of the Tree. A cool, faint luminescence emitted from the bark directly under her fingertips. “Nonetheless, your heart and mind are greatly troubled, Estes. I was tending to Belerick’s Dreaming when I sensed your turmoil…” 

Lunox stepped aside to reveal an elf-height, luminescent sapling engrained between the Tree of Life’s enormous roots. Promptly Estes recognized the sprig for _who_ it was, though it was taller and had grown more leaves than when he’d seen it last. Here lay an old and true friend, Belerick the mighty Tree Nymph. Estes’ trouble temporarily retreated to the back of his mind. 

“Do you remain here because of him?” 

“I couldn’t imagine leaving without him,” she answered without hesitation. “Besides, he will return soon.” 

Estes touched the newest leaf on the sapling and murmured the customary prayer for safety and well-being. In his words were magic and his magic was that of nurture and healing, so that the whole plant seemed to shimmer vibrantly when he pulled back. 

“Thank you,” Lunox said softly. 

“It’s the least I can do,” Estes said and meant it. The gratitude was superfluous next to Belerick’s selflessness whose sacrifice had protected the Tree of Life from Thamuz’s ravaging inferno. Estes simply did the only thing he could since he was barely of use otherwise… 

She inclined her head in Estes’ direction, a gesture that reminded him of the coloured crows of Askati Forest. It was a look of inquisitiveness and slightly unsettling though not the kind which brought distrust. Lunox’s mismatched gaze instead carry a call for honesty… for _vulnerability._

“Your Dreaming is troubled,” she continued finally. “And I’m sensing Dreams of foreign nature, here in the forest.” 

“I suppose you would, everything considering…” 

But the world around him was peaceful and quiet save for the sounds of nature, a much welcomed respite after the fire and blood in his own dream. Perhaps he had underestimated the toll of the task at hand if his old nightmare had recurred. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. 

Specifically, the task concerning a certain draconic Ambassador. 

He shared judiciously the nature of his trouble and his visitors, but it was not out of mistrust. Rather, he felt a conspicuous shame for unburdening the circumstances of his own making to another. Furthermore, he was still unsure what ‘success’ would look like with the Black Fierce Dragon’s situation. He was hopeful, yes, but Estes had lived long and through enough perils to truly understand the meaning of care. 

He could not afford to be hasty. The last time he did… 

The past arose from the depth of memories and whispered to him in Alice’s voice: _I will break you, elf king, as only another mage would appreciate._

She did; oh how she did. 

Estes closed his eyes and forced himself back to calm with some effort. It did not go unnoticed to Lunox but the elf king had said much for tonight. And, although the passage of time in Lunox’s Dream-presence was fickle at best (and incomprehensible at worst), Estes was still bound to the physical world of the Land of Dawn. There, night was beginning to recede ever so slowly. A new day would begin. 

“May we meet again, Estes,” Lunox said. Estes hadn’t said anything pertaining his departure but she knew, somehow. “I wish you the best in your endeavours.” 

_I hoped so too,_ he thought. He took a fist to his heart and bowed in the manner of recognition among warriors. “And you with yours.” 

A mist creeped in from somewhere unknown just beyond the edge of vision, blurring outlines and diluting colours of the world around him. The glow from Belerick’s sapling faded like the smudges of a child’s drawing. Lunox glided close to Estes on too-slender wings and landed in front of him, so lightly as though she weighed as much as a feather. 

A sourceless wind gusted the moment she placed her hand upon his chest. He could feel the subtlest of pushing… 

  
  


…and Estes came to himself to wan moonlight on his face and dissipating breeze settling his hair-strands over his shoulders. He felt a soreness in his joints one would be familiar with after falling asleep somewhere one shouldn’t be. In his case, it was upon the white oak desk which faced the high-arched window through which moonlight was filtering through. His sleep-addled memories returned piecemeal with every bleary blink: He had been in his study and, well, studying through his choice scrolls after the new Ambassador-related information this morning. Conscientious as he was, Estes’ lack of research materials proved rather discouraging… 

Truthfully, Estes could do without his mind exaggerating anything troublesome to a nightmare worthy of Queen Alice. 

Now that he was awake, the nightmare lost the sharp edges of its claws and left behind a vague sense of loss and chill in its wake. He leaned back in his chair, lifting his face up to the aging moon and what light he could still soak in. It soothed him. Strengthened him. Reminded him of the Moon’s mercy and blessing in exchange for his loss, so that Estes was capable of healing hitherto unheard of. And yet, there was a small part of him that whispered with childish wistfulness, tempting him with hope that Estes should have known better. 

The Moon Elf King lifted his hand and followed the motions of a spell, long disused after his affliction. 

He concentrated; willed the magic to coalesce in his upturned palm. 

Beads of sweats trailed down his temple immediately. His teeth clenched in tremendous effort. The other hand gripped upon the arm-rest with strength that turned his knuckles bloodless. 

It was a spell capable of unleashing enough magic to drive back the Kraken’s corrupted dragons, as he did once upon a time. Like blowing a molten glass into shape, raw magic needed direction and coaxing to behave as intended by the caster. But the magic summoned from Estes’ core was like sand through his fingers the moment he imbued it with martial intention. 

_This_ was the legacy of the Queen of the Apocalypse. Gone was the mage-warrior that Estes once was, crippled in such a way that the Moon Elf King was greatly diminished of the capability to shape his magic offensively. 

Fighting to hide the tremor that would have been in his voice had he uttered a word, Estes let the magic in his hand evaporated, as ineffectual as the wafts from a moth’s wings. The curtains rustled and then, there was silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> _Author a/n:_  
>  **  
>  _The background for this chapter (Thamuz and the Tree of Life) and Lunox's appearance (esp. heterochromia) is based on[Lunox and Belerick's Comic](https://m.mobilelegends.com/en/newsdetail/1483)_


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